


Take It Off

by caramelariana



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blink And You Miss It Slash, Gen or Pre-Slash, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:06:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelariana/pseuds/caramelariana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's life has become rather dull. Can one night change that? Inspired by Kesha's "Take It Off"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It Off

Harry Potter sat in his darkened living room staring at the small fire crackling in the fire place. Unopened letters littered the floor. His small barn owl sat on her cage, looking distastefully at the mess in the room. Her owner had not cleaned in several weeks, and though several owls had been through to deliver messages, she had not once been sent out with a reply. Her wings itched to fly.

Said master sighed as his eyes turned from the flames to the many letters. They were mostly from his friends, who he had ignored for the better part of the month. He had no desire to read the letters, let alone begin a conversation. He had even cut his fireplace off from the floo network temporarily. Harry Potter was slightly depressed, and he would rather mellow in his own misery than allow others to try to cheer him up.

With another sigh he leaned back against his arm chair. There was no particular reason for the sudden onset of Harry’s depression, and he made no effort to examine possible causes. An outside viewer might point to the monotony of the hero’s life and the lack of anything truly exciting. Harry would tell the observer that after his Howarts years he appreciated the severe lack of drama. However, when one does not have a television to view other people’s dramas on reality TV, that person really should compensate with at least a little bit of personal drama. Even his friends were drama free as Ron had matured enough to understand arguing with Hermione was futile. And so Harry lived a rather boring life with nothing in particular to look forward to.

It wasn’t long before the black-haired man fell asleep, snoring softly. The barn owl—whose name is unimportant to this story—cocked her head as the strange noises left her owner. It wasn’t often that Harry snored, contrary to popular belief.

Some time passed before Harry awoke. He looked around the room in confusion, wondering how he had gotten to his bed. He groaned as he sat up, anxious to check if he had left the fire going. He passed his dresser mirror before reaching the bedroom door and glanced at his reflection. A pale face with dark bags under dull green eyes looked back. He looked awful. He ran his hands over his face and chanced another look. Instead of his face, another pale reflection studied him. Short blond hair hung into gray eyes. Draco Malfoy smirked and hooked his finger into a “come hither” motion.

Harry blinked and started as his surroundings changed. Instead of his bedroom, Harry was standing in a night club. Pulsing music flooded his ears as disco balls and strobe lights flashed around the large room. He was standing in front of the bar area, which was packed with drunken patrons. He continued to look around and spotted a small stage that served as the focal area of the club. On the right and left stood two men dressed completely in black. They had on black leather shorts and black fishnet tops. They were covered in glitter and danced in black platform boots. In between them stood a familiar blond who was dressed similarly, minus the top. His bare chest was covered in glitter and he was lip syncing to the song. He danced provocatively and collected money from the patrons close to the stage. With a frown Harry moved closer to the stage. As he got a better view he realized the blond was wearing lip gloss, eyeliner, and glittery eye shadow.

The blond noticed Harry and green eyes met gray. Draco smirked and turned his attention toward the brunet. The patrons turned to see who had caught the dancer’s eye and were surprised to see how plainly the lucky man was dressed. The song ended and the dancer winked and thanked the audience. He moved to the back of the stage as the two dancers on the side moved to the center and continued to move to the next song.

Harry stared in disbelief. Had he really just seen Draco Malfoy dressed and moving like that? He shook his head and convinced himself that he was dreaming. As he headed to the door of the nightclub someone grabbed his arm. He turned quickly, preparing to defend himself. He stopped, realizing that it was Malfoy who had demanded his attention. The blond was dressed somewhat more conservatively in ripped jeans and a leather jacket. He wore a blue silk shirt under the jacket. He was still wearing the black leather boots.

“Care to dance?” the blond asked smoothly.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t dance.” He tugged his arm out of Draco’s grip and walked out the door.

The blond followed and pulled up beside him. “Then I suppose we could take a walk.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Draco spoke again. “You’ve been suspiciously absent from the Daily Prophet.” Despite Harry’s rather uneventful life, the Prophet always liked to report on the hero’s mundane activities.

“I haven’t given them anything to write about,” Harry answered his companion.

Draco snorted. “You never give them anything to write about, and yet they still do. So what has changed?”

“I meant what I said literally,” Harry said in a monotonous tone. “I’ve rarely left my house.”

Draco shook his head. “For all your antics in school, you certainly lead a boring life.” Harry remained silent. “You know,” Draco continued, “it’s not healthy to stay indoors all day. For one thing it’s taken a horrible toll on your complexion. And another, you are not a man that can live on monotony.”

Harry shrugged.

With a sigh Draco turned and stood in front of the brunet. “What I’m saying, Potter, is that if you don’t put some spice in your life—and soon—you are going to lose the will to live.”

“And I suppose you know all about that?” Harry asked defensively.

Draco smirked. “Of course I do. Why do you think I took that job in the club? There is always a party to go to and always a story to tell.”

“I’m sure your parents are proud.”

“You are quite cruel.” There was no malice in Draco’s tone. He seemed to be taking the conversation as a great joke. “I really don’t care what does or doesn’t make my parents proud. I care that I am having fun. And I care that you are not.”

Harry looked at him in confusion. “You care?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You are the most unobservant prat in the history of Britain,” he said impatiently. “This is the first night you’ve been out in…well probably ever. Only one night and already a great story.” Harry looked at him blankly. “You saw me!” Draco exclaimed. “Merlin Potter! You can now tell the world that you saw the beautiful, sexy Draco Malfoy dancing at a club for money.”

Harry shook his head. “The world doesn’t care what you do.” He looked up as he felt a drop of water on his nose.

The blond ignored the rain that was beginning to fall. “Of course they do. But I do suppose it pales in comparison to what you do. What do you think they would say if the story involved us both?”

“What are you talking about Malfoy?” Harry asked, wishing he was back in his bed.

Draco grabbed the brunet’s chin with his hand. “This,” he whispered before planting a soft but forceful kiss on Harry’s lips.

Harry’s heart began to race as he started to respond and—

And then Harry was staring at the smoldering ashes in his fireplace. He looked around the room, waiting for his heart to calm down. His owl was sleeping inside her cage. Everything was as it had been, including the many letters on the floor. Harry waved his wand to check the time: 6:30 am. He shook his head, wondering at the strange dream. He didn’t feel well rested, but the images of the dreams kept him from falling back to sleep.

He stood from his armchair and stretched, hearing pops resound through his spine. After recovering from the slight dizziness from the stretch, he pulled on some tennis shoes and a baseball cap. Making sure the owl had food for when she awoke, Harry stepped out of his house for the first time in a week.

The morning sunlight was soft against the trees and houses of his neighborhood. Checking that he was alone on the street, he pulled his cap further to cover his face and walked toward the corner. The few times Harry had left his house in the past month, it was always to get an early cup of coffee from the neighborhood café.

As he stepped into the coffee shop he noticed there was only one other person. That person was in a back corner, face covered by a newspaper. Harry paid little attention to the customer and approached the counter to order his usual double vanilla latte. The young woman who worked behind the counter lacked customer service and rarely ever even looked at the people ordering coffee from her. That was why Harry preferred to go there while she was working.

He sat down near the door with his coffee. He had learned that it was always best to be closest to the exit in public spaces. He sipped his coffee as he allowed his mind to drift to nothing in particular. A few minutes later he was pulled from his thoughts as the one other customer stood up from their chair. Harry would watch the person until they exited the building, another important survival tactic he had learned.

As the person came closer Harry realized it was a young man with blond hair and silver-gray—

No. Draco Malfoy could not possibly be standing in this coffee shop. Harry’s eyes widened as the blond recognized him. Draco smirked as he passed Harry’s tale. “Take it off,” he whispered before leaving the café.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're confused by the ending line, "Take It Off" is the song Draco was dancing to at the club.


End file.
